


kindness won't save anyone

by kitahart



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-29 03:49:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11432532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitahart/pseuds/kitahart
Summary: Taako rolls over, pulling an arm over his eyes – half for dramatic effect and half because the room is so fucking bright it’s making his head spin a little.“Magno. My dude. My pal. I amabsolutely fucking dying.”“You’re not dying, you have a cold.” Magnus says, and – he sounds like he’s smiling, the bastard.Fuckhim, he doesn’t know shitty this feels.Things are a little more complicated than that.





	kindness won't save anyone

**Author's Note:**

> it's h/c bingo season and i'm trying to finish my card as quickly as possible so that's why i'm dumping a bunch of works onto ao3 after disappearing for Forever?

Taako doesn't notice it at first. Of course he doesn't, because they're headed back from a three-day expedition into some hellish system of caves where he almost got eaten by a giant, sentient plant-thing, so of course a few extra aches and pains don't go unnoticed.

Still, by the time they’ve summoned one of those weird pod-things to pick them up, he’s definitely feeling a little run-down.

“I could burn a healing spell,” Merle offers as they climb inside, rising into the sky, a testament to how low his hit points are. Not Taako’s fault! He got thrown across the room by a six-foot-tall Venus Flytrap because _somebody_ didn't protect him well enough.

“Oh, a healing spell? As if there were any other kinds of spells that you could cast? Like, say, _any_ kinds of buffs that could've kept me on my feet for more than three seconds?” Fuck it, he's bitter and in pain. Sue him. 

“I think what Taako is trying to say,” Magnus interjects, “is that we’re all going to take a long rest and be back up to full in the morning, so maybe you shouldn't bother burning your spell slots, _thank you.”_

“Yeah, thanks for not healing me when it counted, old man!”

Magnus laughs, messing with Taako’s hair, and he flicks his hand away. “Do _not–_ ”

“I think that _someone_ needs a nap!”

“Yeah, my man! I’m gonna take the most luxurious bubble bath of my life and then pass out for eighteen hours, what the hell is _your_ post-mission protocol like? Carving a small army of ducks out of soap? Thanks, but Taako’s good out here!”

When they land at the Bureau, though, he doesn't even make it past their mission briefing. Lucretia takes one look at the three of them and dismisses them outright, tells them to go rest up and report to her in the morning. Taako is almost exhausted enough to let some of the gratitude show on his face. _Almost._

He doesn't even manage to draw a bath, just bandages his wounds, throws himself facedown on top of his covers, and falls asleep with his shoes still on. 

* * *

Taako wakes up the next day feeling like _absolute shit_.

He breathes in experimentally, wincing at the ache in his chest. There’s some kind of fucked-up thing happening with his ribs and, yeah, the whole breathing thing isn’t exactly going super great right now, but he’s convinced that this is something that he can manage until he starts coughing.

It takes a good five minutes to get his breath back, and by the time he manages to stop gasping for air, his head is swimming, and there’s a kind of dizzying pounding happening behind his eyes. Yeah, okay, hiding this isn’t going to work.

As much as he hates to admit it, “sick and miserable” isn’t Taako’s brand, and like _hell_ he’s gonna let people see him like this. There’s no need to be concerned; he heals fast. Colds are some goddamn human bullshit and he’s an elf, so a quick nap should fix… whatever this is.

(There’s a faint memory, then: Taako, all of twelve and shivering in the doorway of an apothecary, waiting until the woman turned her back so that he could swipe herbs with a shaking hand. He needed them. If he was too sick then he would be useless and then he would get left behind, and –)

(His mind helpfully supplies static in place of a name (?) and the memory fizzles out. Brain stuff sucks.)

_Oh well._ This is inconvenient as shit, but he can fix it. Sighing deeply, Taako bundles himself up in his mess of comforters. Things will probably be better in a few hours. 

* * *

Things are _definitely not_ better in a few hours. If anything, Taako feels worse after drifting in and out of a hazy meditation. Fuck short rests.

There’s a sound at his door, the rapping of knuckles against his doorframe, and Taako doesn't even bother to roll over or extract himself from the blanket hell that he’s created. 

“Whaddya want, Mags,” he grumbles. His voice is hoarse, uncharacteristically low. This _sucks._ He doesn't feel like being vulnerable right now – being _seen_ as vulnerable, the way there’s a note of pity in Magnus’s voice when he speaks. _Fuck you, he’s not letting on shit._

“Hey, I – Jeez.” Taako can imagine Magnus now, doing his apologetic _aw-shucks_ face, rubbing the back of his neck. “You sound like hell.”

“Thanks, you too.” He’s way too out of it to come up with a proper insult, what the _hell?_

“No, seriously, you sound like you, like, picked up Killian’s cold or something.”

“Fuck off, I’m an elf, we don’t get sick.”

The creaking of floorboards in the doorway as Taako imagines Manus shifting, maybe leaning against the frame. “I am zero percent sure that's true.”

Magnus is a good person – better than Taako deserves, probably better than they _all_ deserve – and Taako trusts him not to, like, fuckin’ kick him out for being useless and out of commission, but that man _cannot_ close his mouth, and if the gossip reaches Carey or Killian or, Gods forbid, the Director –

He doesn't think that the Bureau has a policy on sick days.

“I’ll be – I’ll be fine!” Taako says, managing a decent attempt at pitching his voice up to its normal tone. Can’t be that bad, then, he probably just needs a drink of water or something. “Listen, hombre, don’t worry about me, Taako’s got this shit taken care of! I’ll be up in a few.”

A long pause. “I mean, if you're sure, but–”

Taako throws a pillow at his face. “Get _out!”_

* * *

Bad enough that Magnus is probably going to start some _bullshit_ rumor that he’s sick to the rest of the Bureau, but Taako can’t even drift back into meditation after that.

With some amount of regret, he slips out from under his blanket cocoon and immediately regrets that decision even more. The room swims for a moment, and Taako has to grab the bedframe to keep from toppling over. 

“Not great,” he mutters to himself, yanking an old sweatshirt out from the very back of his closet. He gives his binder a longing look, but with how fucked up his chest feels and the fact that he is _definitely_ planning on catching a nap again when nobody's looking – better not. 

Even a shower doesn't help Taako feel better, doesn't even manage to clear the fog in his head. He alternates between being overly warm and shaking with chills, and the ache in his muscles doesn't wash away with the hot water. When he peels the away the bandages on the deep cut in his side, the one that he’d either gotten from the weird plant creatures or the time they backhanded him across a room, the wound itself is red and painful, not as healed as if should be. This would fucking _suck_ if the wound was infected, but whatever bullshit he’s feeling started hours before that would have been a possibility. More likely: he's fighting off a flu and a full rest isn't enough to top off his hit points right now. Sucks, but he'll live. 

The only good thing is that he doesn't look _nearly_ as bad as he feels. Sure, the dark circles under his eyes become apparent as he wipes a clean circle in the fogged-up mirror, but he doesn't even need a Disguise Self to hide the shakiness that he’s feeling. That's good. He can manage. 

Halfway between his bedroom and the front door, Taako hears Magnus shifting around in the other room, and a thought occurs to him: _Aren’t humans supposed to have medicine for their bullshit illnesses?_

To be fair: Taako is rapidly admitting to himself that it’s not just a human thing but, even so, he veers off to the side instead out the door, tiptoeing into Magnus’s bathroom. Stealing is second nature for him; he’s only stolen medicine a few times. It’s not a necessity nor a luxury anymore, and he can't exactly pawn that shit off to Garfield, so why bother?

Anyways: Taako rummages around Magnus’s cupboard, heedless of the mess he’s making. He tosses a couple of empty boxes over his shoulder – doesn’t the guy throw _anything_ away? – and eventually surfaces with a box of Fantasy Aspirin.

He looks skeptically at the label, not even sure if this shit will _work_ on him, but shakes out two pills and swallows them dry anyways. He has a job to do, and – hey, if this stuff is dangerous, at least it might put him out of his fucking misery, right?

* * *

Mission reports are the _worst fucking thing_ Taako has ever experienced in his life, and they're somehow even more miserable when he's currently dying. Fun! He didn't even think that was possible.

Merle’s rambling about the _one_ good spell that he’d managed to cast over the span of three days, Lucretia looking on with a raised eyebrow. Normally, he’d interject with a witty comment, but, the way his chest keeps hitching with tiny half-coughs he’s trying to keep concealed, he doubts that that would work well for him. The Fantasy Aspirin clearly isn't doing its job. 

He just needs to last it out a few more minutes, then he can go to his room and die in peace. Being vulnerable is for chumps. He can hack this.

“And you have the artifact?” Lucretia asks, her voice cutting through the fog in his head with sharp relief.

“Yeah! Actually, wait, I think Taako has it?” Magnus gestures towards him, and Taako blinks before realizing that he's meant to give it to her.

“Oh. Yeah, here you go.” He digs around in his inventory, coming up with the small, round stone that he’d grabbed shortly before being _stabbed_ by a fucking _plant._ He hadn't known that one was possible either.

“Ah.” Lucretia sets the artifact down on her desk. “Taako, are you feeling quite alright?”

“Yeah!” Taako’s voice cracks, and he clears his throat before trying again. “Yeah, I’m fine, my man. Everything’s peachy!”

“Are you certain? Your – all of your, I should say, physical states, are of the utmost importance at the –”

“I’m fine!” Taako interrupts, bristling with the idea of – he can't be not okay, he can't be _this vulnerable_ in front of people, at least not visibly, god knows what… “I’m so tired of people trying to fuckin’ – y’know, the only person who _hasn't_ expressed concern over my quote-unquote ‘physical state was the guy who’s supposed to be in charge of healing me in the first place. Like, you’re not my boss! None of you are in charge of me!” Magnus lays a warning hand on his arm, but quickly withdraws it when Taako turns towards him. Fuck it, he _will_ deck the guy if it comes to that. 

Lucretia exhales through her nose, closing her eyes. “Technically speaking, I _am_ your boss here, but I am saying this as your friend, not your superior. Go home, get some rest. I think I’ve heard enough here today.”

Fine, if everyone’s gonna _be_ that way.

Distantly, Taako’s aware that he’s agitated, so overstimulated and out of it that everything feels like a thread, but when Magnus grabs his shoulder as he’s striding out of Lucretia’s office, he _does_ deck the guy, swings around and hits him in the knees with his umbrella.

Magnus doesn't even stumble, but Taako does, doubling over with a series of coughs so harsh that he feels like he’s gonna hack up a lung. Fuck, this _sucks._

There's a gentle hand in his shoulder, then the sensation of being pulled upright. It’s easier to breathe that way, and he manages to gasp a few breaths of air into his aching lungs.

“You're burning up,” Magnus says. He reaches his free hand towards Taako, presumably to feel his forehead, and Taako flinches away. Fuck _that_ noise.

“Yeah, dude. No shit!”

Magnus rolls his eyes, but the expression of concern doesn't leave his face. _What a baby._ “Okay, how about we get you back to your quarters, then I’ll find out where Merle got off to and he can cast a quick Remove Disease, have you up and running in no time?”

Fuck, Magnus has this thing where – he’s probably already imagining, like, swaddling Taako in blankets, or whatever. Making him chicken soup. Whatever it is people who can afford to take time off when they're sick do. Whatever it is that Magnus does that makes him look like such a fuckin’ good person all the time. “Nah, my dude. I’ll go find him myself, shouldn't be a problem.”

Magnus looks him up and down as Taako tries to draw himself up straighter, finally releases him. “Alright, buddy. Your funeral, I guess.”

* * *

The good news is, by the time _that_ plan of action doesn't work out, Taako’s miserable enough to actually bug someone about it. 

“Magnus,” he whines. “Magnus, I think I’m dying.” He flops down dramatically on the couch, a gesture that goes largely unappreciated because Magnus has his back turned. He’s -- is he carving a _fucking chair_ out of wood?

Whatever. Taako’s head hurts and he can’t think straight.

_“Magnus,”_ he says again, insistent.

“You’re not dying, you have a cold.” Magnus says, and – he sounds like he’s smiling, the bastard. _Fuck_ him, he doesn’t know shitty this feels. “I told you you were sick. Go talk to Merle.”

Taako rolls over, pulling an arm over his eyes – half for dramatic effect and half because the room is so fucking bright it’s making his head spin a little _._ “Magno. My dude. My pal. I am _absolutely fucking dying._ ”

He coughs for effect, and also because he feels awful. _That,_ at least, gets Magnus’ attention.

“ _Shit,_ that sounds – pretty bad, Taako. Honestly, have you talked to Merle at all? I’m sure he has some sort of spell –”

“Already tried, my dude,” Taako mumbles. “He said that he wasn’t going to burn a spell slot on a cold.”

“Well, maybe you should try again. Or – the Bureau should have some clerics on staff, right? Maybe you could go to one of them.”

Taako doesn’t even respond, just drags a pillow out from under him and buries his face in the cool underside. Fuck, even his _eyes_ hurt.

This sucks.

“Really, though,” Magnus continues, and – _fuck him sideways,_ Magnus Burnsides is worried.

“...’ll be fine,” Taako says, his voice muffled by the pillow. “Just want more sleep.”

“...All right, if you’re sure.” Magnus sounds skeptical. There’s a beat of silence, and then Taako feels a heavy weight cover his body and -- yep, Magnus has covered him with the heavy woolen blanket that he keeps at the foot of the couch.

Taako lies still for a moment, hoping that that’s the end of it, but Magnus lingers for a moment longer. There’s the brief press of a hand to Taako’s forehead, a muttered comment from Magnus, and then he’s is actually drifting off, burying himself further under the blanket Magnus has provided.

* * *

He also wakes up to someone touching his forehead, which is significantly less pleasant, because he may or may not shout a bit while frantically lashing out, lands a satisfying hit whoever’s unlucky enough to be close to him.

“Hey! Watch it, asshole, it’s just me!”

_Wait, fuck._ He knows that voice. Taako jolts upright, heart hammering in his chest, as he squints, taking in his surroundings. He’s still on their shitty couch, tangled up in Magnus’s shitty blanket. 

“...Merle?”

“Got it in one.” The dwarf is standing at the foot of the couch, looking no worse for the wear after Taako apparently just… shit, he kinda did whack him in the face there. _Fuck._

“You were getting worse – like, way worse, like I was worried– so I went out and dragged Merle back.” And, oh _fuck_ , Magnus is standing behind him, Magnus got to witness his freakout too. That's just great.

“You feeling any better?”

Taako takes inventory of himself, and, if this was a test of Merle’s healing abilities? Dude _definitely_ failed. He still feels like absolute garbage trash. “Not really, no. Did you even do the spell or what?”

Magnus and Merle share a capital-l Look, and Taako glances between the two of them. “Try again,” Magnus says, and Merle lays a tentative hand on Taako’s shoulder, but he knows before the spell is finished that it won't work. There's a certain depth to Merle’s voice, the rush of power that Taako can feel as he touches him, so he knows the guy’s definitely still connected to Pan, but it’s like the healing magic just… doesn't do shit once it touches him.

“Maybe it needs some time to take effect?” Taako mumbles, rolling over and bundling himself in the blanket. Sue him, he's tired and strangely cold. His chest hurts and he can only breathe in short bursts, like he can't take in enough air or something. Dimly, he’s aware that this isn't good, but he doesn't have the energy to say anything.

“...don’t think that’s really the case,” Merle is saying. Taako can’t hear him very well, probably ‘cause he’s turned more towards Magnus.

“Cool, just… lemme know if you need me for anything,” he manages, already out of it before his eyes close.

* * *

Then: cold fingers touching his face, taking his pulse, prying his eyes open. The light burns, his eyes instinctively watering. Everything’s cold, actually, which kinda sucks.

“What –” is all he manages to say before he starts coughing again, more out of a desperation for air than anything else. Breathing isn't really working right now, and the dull ache that he’d been feeling before he fell asleep on this dumb couch had turned into outright pain. The combination of the two had him gasping, bringing tears to his eyes as he tries to catch his breath.

“Calm down, calm down,” someone is saying and it’s, it’s gotta be Merle, Merle is standing beside him looking concerned, holding one of his hands in a death grip. “You gotta stay calm if you wanna breathe, got it?”

Taako takes a slow breath inward, shuddering a little. “Got it – _fuck,”_ he manages, taking everything in, how much it hurts. He’s nearly doubled over gasping before a strong hand pulls him back onto the pillows, probably Magnus. He’s woozy enough to think, _someone brought extra pillows,_ and, yeah. Also probably Magnus.

“So, like, healing spell didn't work or what? ‘Cause, not to be uh –” Taako pauses to take a pained, rattling breath. He’s not a cleric, but that shit doesn't sound good. “Not to be dramatic or anything, but I’m pretty sure I’m dying right now, _Magnus_.” Magnus makes a tiny sound in the back of his throat and Taako actually does feel a bit guilty for that one.

Merle gestures to the blurry shape standing next to him. Taako squints, and, yeah, that's one of the Bureau’s clerics, a tiny gnome dude. He’s only vaguely aware that the Bureau had other clerics, ‘cause, sure, Merle’s kind of a fuck-up, but at least he keeps them patched up enough that they don't need to seek outside help for anything they can't sleep off.

He lets himself doze off then, drift in this weird half-aware state. The cleric dude – Taako can't put a name to his face, doesn't care to – takes his time, doing weird shit like shining lights in his eyes, noting his pulse. Whatever. He takes it all in uncomprehendingly.

There's a sudden, sharp pain in his side. Taako inhales sharply, suddenly realizing that while he’d been drifting off, the cleric had drawn back the blankets and was now prodding at the bandage on his side, the one he’d changed that morning. Or maybe it was yesterday morning? For some reason, the realization that he doesn't have an accurate sense of time fucks him up.

“Taako? Hey, Taako.” Magnus shakes his shoulder a little and Taako realizes that they’ve been asking him some sort of question, both him and the cleric. “Did you get this in yesterday’s fight?”

Oh. So it is still _today,_ then, as much as that's a value of anything. “Uh. Think so? ‘S kinda fuzzy, hard to…” he trails off, as the conversation begins anew without him, everyone talking at once, Magnus and the cleric both saying something at the same time – Magnus sounds scared, the cleric accusatory. 

“‘Course not,” Merle’s saying, “if I had any reason to – look, asshole, he was presenting with flu symptoms, not fuckin’ – If I thought he was being poisoned, of course I’d have done the spell!”

A chill runs through Taako, and not just because he's – _poisoned,_ apparently, from the fight yesterday. He can't hear anything else, just that word ringing in his ears. 

And then there's a warm hand on his shoulder again and _finally_ a pulse of magic that flows through him, loosening the tight and around his chest so that he can breathe, driving away some of the bone-deep pain that he didn't even know he was feeling.

It doesn't do shit for the most part, though, ‘cause he still feels awful and shitty and – Taako turns his head into his arm, eyes burning, pretending that the tears are still because of the light and not because, well. He wonders if this is what _they_ felt when it happened, back in Glamour Springs. Probably not. They died faster.

Just: He probably deserves this. Karma, justice, that's all.

Apparently, he's upset enough that someone notices, because Magnus lays a hand on his shoulder – and _when are people going to stop touching him –_ and gently squeezes. “Hey, we figured it out, okay? You're good! It looks like you got poisoned from those giant plant things – the Bureau can check that later – but you're fine!” he adds hastily. He probably means for it to be soothing, but Taako’s breath hitches a little as he chokes on a sob. _Fuck._ “You’re, uh, you're gonna be okay! Things are probably gonna suck for a bit –”

“For a decent while, actually.” That’s Merle there, gruffly interrupting Magnus, and Taako draws in a shaking breath. Okay. His nails dig into his palms, ten bright spots of pain. 

“– but everything’s gonna be fine! Here –” There's some shuffling around, and Taako opens one eye to see Magnus holding out a small wooden cup. “You gotta drink this? Doctor’s orders, apparently. The _real_ doctor,” he adds before Merle gets a word in.

Taako wordlessly accepts the cup from him and awkwardly tries to sit up, scooching back until he can lean against the pillows. Magnus is standing back with his hands extended in a _not touching you_ kinda gesture, which… might make sense. Given how (uncharastically!) emotional he’s been, he probably wasn't being too subtle earlier. Whatever! He’s got this.

He nearly chokes on his first sip of whatever’s inside the cup – Medicine? Tea? More poison? Whatever it is, it’s sharp and bitter, with an acidic aftertaste that reminds him of the herbal concoction his aunt used to make him whenever he so much as sniffled.

(Why doesn't he remember the recipe now? He _knows_ he used to make it, had to steal ingredients for –)

_Oh,_ Taako thinks, a little fuzzily. _This is fun._ Whatever clarity he’d had after being healed is quickly sapped by the medication, and he finds himself rapidly sinking back into a sleepy haze again. He also finds himself rapidly getting _really fucking sick_ of sleeping all the time.

He may or may not say this aloud, much to the amusement of the fuckin’ _circus_ that has gathered in his living room. Magnus and Merle laugh, and when Magnus rests a heavy hand on top of his head, not even under the pretense of checking his temperature, Taako doesn't have it in him to protest.

* * *

This time, Taako wakes up feeling actually okay.

Well, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration. _Maybe_ , because the last time he thought that, he’d nearly passed out in the hall outside the Director’s office. But between the cleric’s Cure Poison spell slowly taking effect and whatever crap they’d made him drink, he’s left feeling okay – a little weak and shaky, still kinda tired, which is bullshit – but: okay. 

When Taako opens his eyes to artificial sunlight streaming in through the muted curtains, he realizes that he's not even sensitive to light anymore. There’s a heavy weight across his legs, and – yep, Magnus has passed out sitting upright against one arm of the couch, with Taako curled up at the other. Dude’s snoring, he notes with some amount of amusement.

“Don’t you dare.” Merle’s standing there, arms folded across his chest, watching Taako with a steely glint to his eyes. His glasses have been discarded, folded up on the table, and he’s disheveled enough that he might not have slept at all, if that was a thing that Taako cared about enough to consider.

“Oh, fuck, it's you,” he says, voice mostly as rough as Merle’s, a note of amusement creeping into his words.

“Sure is, and I’m gonna tell ya right now, that asshole was up half the night worried sick about you, so if you even think about waking him up –”

Taako wants clean, non-wrinkled clothes. He wants to brush his hair and shower and eat about five pop-tarts and pretend like he didn't cry because Magnus fucking Burnsides very gently told him he was going to be okay last night. Actually, he wants to forget that whole deal ever happened. But what he does do is sigh, draw up his legs a little, and say, “Fine. Have it your way.”

“Yeah, yeah.” An awkward moment of silence, then: “So are you just gonna stare at me all day, or do you wanna tell me when you decided to hide the fact that you were being _fucking poisoned?_ ”

“Well,” Taako says, drawing the word out. Like it’s any of Merle’s fucking business. “I did just sort of think that I had a bad cold. So did you, actually? If I remember correctly?”

Merle rubs the back of his neck absently. “Oh, yeah. Guess so. Sorry for telling you to – what was it? ‘Fuck off and take your shitty baby illnesses somewhere else?’”

“Oh yeah, that sounds about right.” Taako hides a smile behind the back do his hand. “I guess I’m sorry if your feelings got hurt when I told you to take your shitty spell slots and shove them –”

“Apology accepted, you prick.”

“Whatever.” Antagonizing Merle is only a good idea if he has an exit strategy and an unlimited amount of ideas, and right now he's out of both. “Just so you know, I think I did okay!”

“You nearly died,” Merle says flatly, picking up his glasses and squinting at him through the smudged lenses that Magnus insists on polishing about twice a week.

“Yeah, dude, but I was _handling_ that shit! I stole some medicine from Magnus – don’t tell him – but, like, I could've done okay.”

“You what,” Merle says flatly.

“I was gonna paid him back, or something like that! It’s not like he needed it, and anyways – I was planning on swiping some stronger stuff from Garfield when I got the chance, but Magnus, y’know –”

“Rushed in?”

“– _intercepted me_ before I could get there.”

“Ya know,” Merle says gruffly; “why not just pay for the crap with your actual money? Like, the stuff we get every time we bring in a relic, comes in a tiny bag –”

“I know what my paycheck is, buddy.”

“Why not, then?”

“Don’t like people knowing I’m sick, thinking that I’m, like – that they can – I just don’t like owing people things, that’s all!”

Merle snorts. “What, like money?”

_Like kindness, like being vulnerable, like surviving all of that._ Taako’s already caught up in a different train of thought, head spinning. “Wait – I don’t, do I? Owe you guys anything for yesterday? ‘Cause if I do – I mean, first of all, fuck you for not telling me upfront, second of all – ”

“Wait,” Merle says slowly, and Taako waits impatiently for his dwarf-sized brain to catch up. “You wanna know if you owe us shit for not letting you die?”

“You don't have any problem with that in the field, old man!”

“Well, you know what…” Taako sighs and braces himself for another one of Merle’s rambles, as if he isn't bored enough, but the guy just waddles over the the couch and squeezes himself in between Taako and Magnus, ignoring Taako’s protests.

“I mean, ya wanna owe me something? ‘Cause I got chores you can do, if you want! Lots of chores! There's plants that need to be watered, and plants that need to be trimmed, and –”

“I’m not fuckin’ – tending your weird hippie garden, thanks.”

“So we’re good, then.” Merle flicks Taako on the forehead, directly between his eyes. It’s about the only time he’ll have the opportunity to do so, so Taako lets it slide. “What would really be helpful right now is some damn cooperation, like maybe you could let me know if you're still running a fever, ‘cause the way you’re talking –”

“Why don’t you just use your magic on me, asshole? You know, spells slots? Those ones?”

“– or you could humor Magnus for two seconds by not immediately running off to drain your hit points and, I dunno, rest for a bit? Take a nap, maybe try some of the soup he made while you were passed the fuck out.” Merle slides off the couch, presumably to put this plan into action.

“Fuck, Magnus actually made soup? Magnus _cooked?”_ Taako’s not sure which idea he hates more.

“Sure did, buddy. It’s not even poisoned, I checked.” Taako winces a bit. “Look, I know I’m a shitty healer and all that, but can you accept this shit for ten fuckin’ minutes?”

Taako looks at Merle, standing with both hands on his hips – probably the most indignant and impassioned he’s ever seen the dude get. He looks at Magnus, still snoring away, curled up to give Taako more space on an uncomfortable couch, dark circles evident beneath his eyes. “...Sure,” he says finally. “I guess that wouldn't be too terrible, my dude.”

After all, he thinks, sinking deeper into the blankets, letting some small, harmless measure of kindness in is hardly the end of the world. It might even be nice. 

**Author's Note:**

> i'm [punkwixes](http://punkwixes.tumblr.com) on tumblr.


End file.
